No Son of Mine
by Angel Karora
Summary: A songfic (my first!!!!!!) to an old 80's song...Matt leaves home. Why? What happens next? Read the story to find out!!! And yes, I do suck at summaries.


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A.K.:(short for Angel Karora) This is set to a song by Genesis, No Son of Mine; I don't own the song (well, I own a copy of it) or Matt, or any of the other Digimon characters who make a guest appearance here. And I can't spell Matt's dad's name. Sony! Have fun, please R+R. Flames will be used as kinder for my next Girl Guide campfire.  
  
No Son of Mine  
Well the key to my survival was never in much doubt  
The question was how I could keep sane, trying to find a way out  
With shaking hands, Matt piled the few possessions strewn on his bed into a backpack; mobile phone, wallet, harmonica, a change of clothes. He could hear his mother's muffled sobs in the room next door; his father had long since stormed out. Probably gone down the pub, Matt thought.  
Why did they have to do this? They said they got back together for the benefit of everyone, especially us kids. All they 're doing is hurting themselves - and us -more. I prayed they wouldn 't move back in together. Dad had been acting so strange lately Threatening me, locking me out; I dreaded what would happen if Mum came back  
Things were never easy for me, and peace of mind was hard to find  
I needed a place where I could hide, somewhere I could call mine  
I was right Dad obviously wasn't keen on the idea of having Mum and TK back; at any rate, he did all he could to drive her out again. When verbal abuse wouldn 't work, he turned to physical attacks. They got worse and worse, and more and more frequent Every day, Mum would have a new bruise.  
I could always go round Tai's. That provided a temporary relief from all the fighting and conflict at home. For once, I was surrounded by a family that actually loved each other They laughed, they joked, they teased each other good-naturedly The complete opposite of my not-so-happy home, where either my parents hurled insults at each other or, worse still, didn 't speak at all. But even then, the relief was just that. Temporary. I always knew I couldn 't stay forever; I had to go back home, to my father's angry shouts and my mother's pleading. But worst of all, my brother's crying That tore me apart; to hear him pouring his little heart out into the pillows. I often cried myself to sleep not from my own sorrow, but out of grief for him.  
I didn't think much about it, but it started happening all the time  
And soon I was living in fear every day of what might happen that night.  
School became a relief or me, an escape. Again, it was only temporary, but I did my best to make it last as long as I could. I deliberately got myself into trouble, so I could get detention... it gave me another hour's respite. I left for school early; I stayed late. If my Dad asked where I 'd been, I told him I was doing coursework -after all, my GCSE's are at the end of this year. I usually got a black eye for that.  
I couldn't stand to hear the crying of my mother, and I remember when  
I swore it, that would be the last they'd see of me and I never went home again.  
But I've had enough! I'm fed up with having a few hours happiness, then having to come back to here! I hate this place! And most of all I hate him!  
Blind with sorrow and anger, Matt pulled on his jacket and picked up his backpack. As quietly as he could, so as not to disturb his mother, he crept down the stairs and undid the lock on the door.  
"Matt?" TK came out of the lounge. "Where are you going?"  
Matt held a finger to his lips. "Shhhh. I'm just going out for a walk, okay?" He hugged TK briefly. "You stay here, okay little buddy?" TK nodded sadly.  
"Goodbye, Matt," he said.  
TK's not stupid. He knows what I 'm doing. He knows I won't be coming back. Poor little guy. I hate doing this, leaving him here. But I can 't take him with me. He's safer here, where Mum can keep an eye on him.  
  
With one last, regretful look around the flat and a final glance at his brother's sorrowful face, Matt stepped out the front door and shut it firmly behind him.  
They say that time is a healer, and now my wounds are not the same  
I rang that bell with my heart in my mouth - I had to hear what he said.  
His heart pounding so hard he thought he was going to be sick, Matt steadied his quivering nerves. You've played hide-and-seek long enough. It's time to face facts, Yamato.  
It was four years since Matt had left home. He'd spent those four years hiding out with Tai. The Kamiyas knew all about what was going on at Matt's home; they were glad to have him. But they'd persuaded him he had to come back and talk to his father.  
Tai was right. I had to come back here. I couldn't spend my whole life hiding from Dad. I have to speak to him, one last time, to explain why I left, to straighten things out. Just... I hope he won't hit me...  
With shaking fingers, Matt pressed the intercom button.  
He sat me down and talked to me  
He looked me straight in the eye  
So much has changed. Dad looks older... much older I guess all that booze caught up with him. I wish I could see Mum... at least, know where her grave was. At least then I would be able to see part of her for the last time. Pity I didn't see her sooner... before the beatings drove her over the edge...  
And TK! He 's grown so much. He fourteen now, about the same age I was when I left. I mean, I've seen him occasionally - at school, of course, and I've met him in town before and said 'hi'. But I've never really seen him properly. It's scary -he looks exactly like I did...  
Masaharu came into the lounge. "Sit down, Matt." His voice was as cold and forbidding as it had been four years ago. Matt obeyed him.  
"I... I came back to say sorry for leaving," he ventured. "I know I shouldn't have done it really, but I... I just couldn't cope with all the strain any more. I'm sorry. I mean, I know I'm your son and I shouldn't have deserted you but..."  
"Matt," his father interrupted. "You're no son of mine."  
With a cry of surprise and pain, Matt stumbled backwards. He gazed at his hands, covered with blood from his broken jawbone. "You...you haven't changed, have you? You're still the same monster!"  
His father growled and advanced towards him again, but Matt continued. "You drive me out, then when I have the courage to come back, you just throw me out on the streets again! Call yourself a father? You're a swine, nothing more." His eyes smarting and his heart aching worse than his jaw, he turned and fled.  
Dad... how could you do this? I'm your son! I don't care if you've disowned me, I am still your flesh and blood relation and you can't just do that to me! My mouth hurts... but not nearly as much as my heart.  
You're no son, you're no son of mine  
But where should I go? Please tell me, what should I do?  
Matt ran, and ran, neither knowing where he was going, nor caring. He just wanted to get as far away from that pathetic excuse for a father as he could. Thrown out by my father... where do I go now? I can 't go back to Tai and the Kamiyas. They've been too kind to me already, letting me live with them for so long. I have nowhere to go... nothing to do... no-one to talk to.  
You're no son, you're no son of mine  
But I came here for help, I came here looking for you.  
I went back home because I wanted their help. I can 't survive in this world without my parents. I'm only seventeen! Not even legally an adult. What do they expect me to do, sit here and starve? I went to them because I needed them. And they throw everything back in my face.  
I went home because I wanted to know my parents - but more importantly I wanted to know my brother. 1 missed too many years, with the divorce... now I've missed even more. In all my seventeen years, I doubt I've spent a total of more than ten with him. I try to make amends... he doesn't want to know me. He pretended to be sympathetic towards me but I saw the look on his face. Like I was some great traitor who should be locked away.  
Well the years they passed slowly  
I thought about him every day.  
Matt was now twenty, and studying at university. Seven years had passed, seven years since he had walked out that front door. Three years since that fateful day when he had met his father again.  
Three years since I last saw TK...  
Although he tried to push thoughts of his brother to the back of his mind, somehow they seemed reluctant to stay there. They kept resurfacing at odd moments. Everything reminded him of his brother.  
Watching basketball matches, seeing people wearing white hats... the list goes on. Why, damn it?! Why is he taking over my life like this? Not a day passes when I don't think of him.  
What would I do, if we passed on the street?  
Would I keep running away?  
Every now and again, I pass TK in town. He must be, what; sixteen now? He looks so different; so unlike TK. Yet I know it must be him. I'll always know him. I know what he'll look like in two, three, four years time. Why? Because I've seen it. More than that... I've been it.  
He is me. The same hair colour, the same eyes, everything. If 1 were three years younger, him three years older, we could pass for twins. He looks just as I did. He'll always look like me, I guess. We both take after our mother.  
Every time I pass him, I just walk on by. I can't bring myself to look at him. It wouldn 't make any difference anyway... he avoids my eyes. He looks away, crosses the street; as if he doesn't want to have anything to do with me. Like I'm a criminal or something.  
I can 't bear to look at him... too many painful memories. Looking at him is like looking into a mirror back in the past; a mirror that reflects back all the suffering and pain I had to endure. All the black eyes, the broken bones, all the burns and grazes I saw on my mother.  
All those which I saw on myself  
Mum wasn't the only one my father abused. True, he never laid into me to the extent he beat my mother. But the abuse was still there. The pain was always there, a constant ache in the back of my mind - t always physical pain, but always the torment. What would happen when I got home? Would he beat Mum? Would he bear me, or worse still, TK?  
I covered up the bruises as best I could. There weren't many, only when I really annoyed him. I was always a bit rough and tumble...if anyone asked where I'd got my black eye, I'd say I got into a fight at school They believed me.  
I spent so many long-suffering years, enduring that; going through what no child in the world should ever have to go through... knowing that your own father doesn't love you, doesn't want you, never has done, never will do. Seeing TK brings back memories of those years, ones I'd rather leave forgotten. He looks so much like I did... right down to the black eye...  
In and out of hiding places, but soon I'd have to face the facts  
That we'd have to sit down and talk it over.. that would mean going back.  
No! It can't be true! Could it?  
Could it be TK's suffering the same thing? The bruises round his eyes, the pale, pinched face, the stick-thin limbs... the same things I developed...  
How could I be so stupid? I should have known, he wouldn't let me go that easily. Not being able to get his hands on me any more, Mum dead for years now, he's turned to beating TK instead... I should have realised sooner! I should know the signs by now! I spent long enough going through the same thing, damnit! Why didn't I recognise it sooner?! I've spent so many years, hiding out, avoiding him, oblivious to the danger I was putting TK in by staying away...  
I have to go back Not for myself, for TK I can 't live, knowing what's happening to him. I've been through enough for both of us. He needn't suffer too.  
Dad, get ready I 'm coming back...for revenge...  
They say that time is a healer, and now my wounds are not the same  
I rang that bell with my heart in my mouth, I had to hear what he said.  
His fists clenched, livid with indignation, Man pressed the intercom button. Four years before, he'd been trembling with fear and anticipation when he had stood in this same spot. He was shaking now... not from fear, but from rage. He was nearly twenty-one, young, fit and able. His father was well into his sixties, made ill and weak by his endless chain smoking. Serves him right! Man thought viciously.  
"Hello? Who is it?" Masaharu's disembodied voice crackled over the intercom.  
"Dad, it's me. Matt. And I have a score to settle with you..."  
He sat me down and talked to me,  
He looked me straight in the eye  
"Matt!" Masaharu growled. "I thought I made myself clear last time I saw you!"  
"Oh, I'm not coming back because I want to, Dad. Don't flatter yourself. I'm coming back because I have to." Keeping his voice even, Matt stood up. He towered over his father. Still shaking with suppressed anger, he raised his fists.  
"Get out!" Masaharu demanded. "I don't want you here!"  
"Tough. Because I have a score to settle, and I'm not leaving until it's done!" Matt swung his fist straight into his father's face. "That's for my mother..." Dragging Masaharu back to his feet, he punched him again. "That's for me..." He let go of his father, who fell to the floor gazing up at his son.  
"Matt.. ..... I'm sorry."  
Matt glared down at him with disgust, then raised his foot. "And that's for TK!" And with that, he slammed his boot down into Masaharu's face.  
You're no son, you're no son of mine  
No you're no son, you're no son of mine.  
"Matt!"  
Runninng back down the street still boiling over with fury, Matt heard a voice behind him. Spinning round, he saw TK running down the street towards him.  
"What?" Even to himself, his voice sounded cold. TK ground to a halt beside him, out of breath and gasping for air. His face was black and blue; he was limping, his thin arms covered with ugly bruises and scars.  
"Mat...Dad beat me, and...I can't stay...I can't stand it any more Matt!" Tears poured from his blue eyes. Eyes which carried a hurt and anguish Matt knew all too well. "I know I ignored you...Dad threatened me...he said if I ever spoke to you he'd...he'd..." He gulped. "You have to help me!"  
Matt thought of his father, lying unconscious and bleeding in the flat. "Oh, don't worry about your father, TK," he said softly. "He won't trouble you any more..."  
You walked out, you left us behind  
And you're no son, you're no son of mine  
In a sense, Dad was right. I abandoned him, I abandoned Mum, I abandoned TK. I left my brother to fight for himself.  
But I made it up to him. I did what I've been wanting to do all my life, since I was twelve at least, when Mum moved back in. I gave that swine a taste of his own medicine, let him see how it felt to be abused by a member of your own family and left sobbing and in pain in a crumpled heap on the floor. Maybe now he understands how Mum felt, how I felt, how TK felt.  
He was right. I am no son of his.  
But he's no father of mine either. 


End file.
